Thriller
by Shinsei-Kokoro
Summary: Insanity wasn’t Kagome's disease. It caged her in a world she never wanted. It was a game where she could only forfeit. Because she was the only player. She was the seeker of her own death. [InuKag theme] [Oneshot]


**Author's Notes: **My first try at Inuyasha and at a one-shot fullstop. It's quite out of character and I apologize for any typos here that I missed to correct. It's not like my usual fics I guess. I found it a little unusual to write it myself but I hope it came out right.

**Disclaimer: **You guys know I owe nothing but a few dollars. I was trying to con as Rumiko Takahashi but it didn't work as I thought it might. The security all but kicked me out. So hear I am, using those few dollars to buy some ointment and Band-Aids. Stupid security will track boots.

**Dedication: **A lot has happened this year. So many sad things. There have been so many deaths that I know of and it has changed a lot of things. This story is related to none of those people, but it's something I made up. This is only a devotion to those people who deserved to live longer.

* * *

Thriller

By: Shinsei Kokoro

Just for today, it's midnight. Once again like unceasingly, the sky has gone blind. So blind that it can't see me or anyone. Every inch of the metropolitan shrouded from it's perception. It's vulnerable with this incompetence. So naked.

It's also what they call as the special hour of the day. Not me.

But them. Humanoids. Anthropoids.

People who have normality in theirs mindworks unlike me. Normal people. Normal girls and normal boys. Normal doesn't even fit near me. It has never synchronized with my way of life. Never has. Never will.

Who cares if the sun has been taken hostage? Who cares if it got murdered at gunpoint? You don't see me stressing. You'll never see me cry for it, because there's always a morning when I wake up in cold sweat. Frozen and perched on my bed.

It is cursed. Just like I am.

* * *

I'm awake here. Too alert as a fact when everybody else is asleep. I should be asleep too. I should be sleeping for that Math's quiz I have to give tomorrow. 

I can hear crickets. I hate them. I hate those crickets. They always keep me stirred. They won't let me sleep. They won't let me fall victim to any sort of slumber. They weep. They never stop weeping.

It's dark, so nobody can see me. But I'm knitting.

I've pricked my fingers five times now. I think it's fun. Watching the blood appear in that tiny bruised spot, and leaving it to trickle down on my favourite skirt. It's black, so Mum won't find out the difference when she washes it tomorrow.

My blood's not even close to the normal colour. Not red. Not yellow. Not blue.

But maybe somewhere in between. It looks slightly brown in the light of the street lamp outside my window.

I can never make out the colour. Ayumi says I might be colour blind, and I think she may be getting her facts right after so many years. She calls me her best friend though. I don't know why, but there's an odd twig that it's possibly because I never ask. I don't think I ever will.

They say being polite gets you around the world.

We've known each other since the day I went to school without an umbrella. We share the same horoscope and the same locker. We walk to school together, and we get the same results every time in Physics.

And yet…I feel she's not who she really is. She laughs like the other kids. She talks like the other kids. She's like a humanoid. She's normal. And that drops me even lower in the category.

Eri thinks I stay inside too much. She's a humanoid too. We used to go together to Myoga's before – an ice cream shop – that was just down her street. But we stopped last year. Suddenly I didn't feel like going there. I don't know why. In fact, I've never known why.

Maybe it was because she started calling me crazy. Insane for not liking ice cream anymore, and getting paranoid every time a boy winked at me.

And she's right – I am crazy.

I know it.

I've always been crazy. Even the trees agree, considering how their leaves suddenly drive up in the air no matter when I ask them. And it assures me sometimes. Because regardless, at least I know who I am.

I may not be a humanoid.

I may not be a normal person.

But at least I'm someone. I have a name. Kagome Higurashi. It doesn't mean anything special to me, yet it gives me an identity.

That's the only similarity I have with the humanoids. They all have names like me.

* * *

From my window, I can see the soggy ground, strewn with the popcorn Souta had thrown. And for a second I wonder if it would turn into a trampoline if I ever jumped high on it. 

I remember trying that four summers back, though I don't recall much of it other than sleeping a lot after that.

Souta had introduced me as Supergirl to a few of his friends and Grandpa had just mumbled on how I was a teenager experimenting new things in life. He never knew the truth. He would never agree with the truth.

Everyone else said I'd gone insane. Eri. Ayumi. The man who'd rescued me and even mom.

They'd agreed to shift me down to the room next to the lounge, but I moved back up last winter. I've never opened that window from ever since.

The needle in my hand jabs me again, but I have to continue knitting the blue wool.

It's something I've been making for Buyo. He's my cat, and he's turning seven tomorrow. Strangely enough, he understands me better than Ayumi or Eri. Although everyone calls him fat, what they don't know is that every time they laugh, he's crying.

He misses dinner once in a while, but no one notices.

Sometimes, I cry too. And no one notices. People call me the silent Kagome. But really, how hard is it to notice someone crazy like me?

* * *

My school isn't normal. The teachers don't even teach us about the word 'normal'. And I don't find it very considerate. 

There are vampires and demons that aren't affected by sunlight. They call themselves students. I don't like going there, but Buyo says if I don't, then I'll never become a humanoid. It's my gateway to freedom waiting on the other side of the tunnel for me. That's what he says.

The students all wear façades. Most of which that I can see through.

They haunt and laugh cruelly.

They saunter and speak fowl. I don't understand them most of the times, so I stay away in the library. It's safer for me there, and although Ayumi and Eri are always trying to pull me put of there, I don't take the chance to jeopardize my safety. I know I'll never fit in with them.

My principal is a strange sort of a man too. His smile is human enough, though his presence seems demonic. It confuses me terribly. How could he be both unless he's a mix-breed?

But the school lives up to this malevolent side and his name. Hell. That's what his name means. Hell that envoys violence most of the time. Hell that envoys brutality and crude behavior.

Naraku Gumo. That's his name.

The vampires and demons call him 'the Devil'. And because of that, it confuses me even more. Aren't they all from the same-sectioned race? In the same league? Aren't they all devils from Hell?

* * *

I hate sports. Maybe it was something that I just wasn't meant to be good at? I don't know. I really don't know. 

I used to be in a tennis club not a long time ago. Maybe until a few months back until another demon was hired in the cloak of our Coach. I didn't want to sense anything evil about him. I forced myself not to. It used to be so hard.

Kouga Morishita. The first demon that ever touched my numb heart.

He used to be beautiful. Tall and virile with long dark hair. His words used to inspire me and I never missed practices because of him. Not once. Never once. I wouldn't dare, not if my life depended on it. He used to seem like the sun's only ray that ever reached to me. The only window that never shattered. I would always be there. Maybe it was because I was always the one he would smile at first.

However, I was pathetic. Stupid. Naïve. And in love. I had a deranged passion for him that lost me my virtue.

But it changed. He changed. Everything changed. I'd never expected all of it to turn around so fast. I'd never expected him to suddenly _want_ me. No. I'd never expected that.

I wanted love. Not his lust.

I wanted tenderness. Not his cruelty. Certainly not his brute.

The sun's ray turned away that day and I desperately hoped it never returned. The mirror had finally shattered and I hadn't stopped when I'd run over them. I'd let the blood come. I'd let the pain drive me away as far as possible from him.

He had kissed me that once. Harshly. Violently. There had been blood in my mouth.

I never looked back since then. I stopped visiting him. And I never looked at his face again.

Not even once. Never. Because if I did, I knew I would kill myself.

* * *

Ms. Kaede's my Math's teacher. She teaches, but she doesn't teach me. The whole class seems to understand; except me. She calls and helps everyone, except me. I don't know why, but all I know is that it's unfair. Why make exceptions for me? 

One day, I'm hoping to ask her why. I'm going to ask her how she lost one of her eyes and how she can still see numbers and formulas. I'm going to ask her why she doesn't like me. One day, I will ask her.

There are stories behind her disability. Stories to why her eyes are not acting like her liabilities.

They say she's divorced four times, and now, she lives alone with two dogs and four parrots that are maimed. Sango tells me that. She's a humanoid too, and she's been sitting next to me in Math's since last term. Sometimes, I find myself listening to her when she explains the cursed number enigmas. She knows almost everything and everyone. She can handle the demons and vampires. She's pretty and behaved. How can she be like that?

Why does she laugh like the other kids? Why does she talk like the other kids? Why is she a humanoid when I'm not?

After hours of thinking, I've finally come to a painful conclusion that I don't think I've ever made.

I'm jealous of her. It's scarlet. So clear to me after so many weeks.

I hate her and I don't want her to help me like I'm feeble-witted. I want her to sit away from me and not even look my way. I want her to stop calling me her friend and treating me kindly. I don't want to be her friend, because I don't think I will ever be able to keep up with her.

I don't think I can do that.

Buyo says there are some principals in life that I can't change. I don't like it, because I hate dubious beliefs. And so, I find myself hating her even more.

* * *

It's lunch, and I've finished eating my not so chicken sandwich. It feels like human flesh and with that I feel like a cannibal. And even if it is chicken as mom says so, sometimes I find little pieces of the meat moving, and it makes me wonder if the butcher had ever killed it completely or not. I cannot by anything bear to eat an alive chicken sandwiched between grained bread. It's gore. Barbarous. 

I'm in the library now, and I'm walking down the shelves of thick and almost dusty books. Hardly anyone comes to this side of the library, so this is usually where I find my solitude from the demonic presence.

The books are pretty and cultured. Thickly framed and with yellowed fragile pages. Sometimes, they talk to me, these pages. They ask me not to kill them. They bow to me in fear, and I find some pity for them in my heart. That's the least they can get after having lied on their shelves for so long.

I pick out one, and make myself comfortable in the corner of the dim-lighted room. It's the only table set here since the librarian had brought it for me. The table speaks to me quietly too. Once in a while, it reads with me, but today, I think it's asleep. I can almost hear its snore against my leg. I can feel it's roughly chipped skin. I suppose, someone must have manhandled it.

Poor table.

Picking up the pages, I find myself deeply enthralled by it. It's factorized on the era of the Sengoku Jidai and how the inhabitants nurtured life.

In the midst of the words, I can hear the echoes of footsteps.

It's the librarian, I suppose so.

But the chair opposite me rumbles, and I look up at the person sitting down. It's not the librarian. It's not Ayumi who's come to drag me out. It's not Eri offering me one of her chocolate sticks.

I don't know why, but my chest tightens. Or so it feels like.

I've seen him. The boy that is settling in front of me. He's in my English class I think.

For a few seconds all I can see are his white tresses, but then he looks up at me after opening a few books. He looks straight at me, and I find myself fidgeting under his superior gaze, "Hey." He grumbles, smiling a little.

Praying he doesn't say anything more to conquest me, I quickly look back down at my book without saying anything.

The table's silent.

I kick it a little, but it doesn't wake. Stupid.

I need it to be alert right now. I need it to be patting me every time the boy looks up a little and stares. Can he see through me? Can he tell I'm crazy? There's nowhere to escape. This place has been my sanctuary for so long until he came, and so I find my arm trembling a little, causing the book to shake moreover.

What can I do?

Where can I go now?

Why is he here? In the corner, with me?

The boy looks up again, a frown playing on his face this time that makes me swallow hard, "You okay?"

I don't have a plan, but he's talking to me. The boy's talking to me, and I'm looking at him. He's frowning a little with his fine chiseled face. Why is he talking to me?

He has unsheathed eyes the colour of crispy gold, and they are trained on me. They are almost prying up my mouth. I feel cornered.

"Yeah." I croak insecurely, and then he shrugs, back to scribbling in his book again.

I can't identify him. I simply can't. Is he a demon? Or a humanoid? He's so close to me, and yet I can't seem to categorize him.

The table isn't helping much either. It's still asleep.

The book's open page quivers a little between my fingers. Is it warning me? Of him?

His voice speaks again, and I can almost feel his knees brush past mine underneath the table, "You're in my English class eh?" There's almost a short circuit that drives into my spine.

Yes. You are. You've been in my English for two years now. I don't know you, and neither do you. But I just nod. All I can do is nod.

Then his gaze turns hesitant, and I'm cold again. Is he going to ask me to leave? Is he going to insult me?

"Have you done that homework from yesterday?" He laughs a little, "I gotta give it in today. And I'm all lucked out."

Oh. I clench the book's page for confusing my thoughts. Homework. He wants my homework. That's all.

I'm not thinking as I give it to him from my bag. His fingers brush past mine a little and I pull my hand back abruptly, feeling the sudden chill again.

He stares for another second before grinning, "Thanks. I'll give it to you tomorrow, yeah?"

But he doesn't move. He doesn't leave. He just sits there, scribbling something in his book again.

My back feels weak for sitting tight for so long, and I'm stealing glances of him.

Why isn't he getting up and leaving? Why isn't he?

I force myself to stay rigid, and pull my eyes back to the regal words in my book. The scenes are gore and bloodthirsty sometimes, but they settle my mind.

The boy finally opens my book, and flips through it. He's fingering through the words, and he's making me shake.

Is he a demon?

Could he be a demon with no schemes?

My mind's dazed, and everything is almost chaotic to the feel. When is he going to look up and laugh in my face? When is he going to call me insane and walk off with my book torn apart? When?

I'm waiting for him. I'm waiting for him to flood and throw, but it doesn't happen. The bell rings, and we're still sitting. It doesn't happen. He doesn't say anything. Why?

So I leave confused.

Could there be a demon in this school who behaves as a humanoid? Could there?

I just hope he doesn't talk to me again.

I've stopped associating with demons for a long time now.

* * *

Grandpa. 

I've always loved him. He's old and gets cranky sometimes. But that's how I've always known him. He cheers me up, and he says I'm his favourite. Souta gets angry when he hears this. His cheers don't work on me now. Who's Souta? He's my little brother. Except now, he's not little anymore.

Grandpa says that one-day when he'll die, this shrine will belong to me. I'll be the one to take care of it, and I'll be the one to sweep its front steps each day.

He has recently committed himself to the dark spirits residing in the deep corners of our shrine. He believes that our home once belonged to a high priestess who slayed them and let them free to walk in discontent. It was a punishment for the demons. He talks of shadows that appear in vengeance sometimes. He talks of monsters lurking in and out. I don't think I like it very much.

Mom doesn't believe him. She's never believed them. She hasn't seen them like I have. She hasn't listened to their screams or moans. She hasn't heard them knock on my door. She hasn't.

They are gruesome, and they reek of a curse that lapped me a long time ago. They drop trails of dark melody that wake me up in the night sometimes. And at those nights, I'm restless.

They're demons. Demons who never sleep.

* * *

Buyo has worn my knitting, and is now sleeping on my thighs. I think he is happy being seven. 

He purrs slightly, and lets me push him on the bed covers. He stumbles before closing his eyes and smiling himself to sleep. He doesn't see the trees outside laughing at me again. He doesn't see what I see. He doesn't see me against the window that seems cold against my eyebrows.

I breathe on the cold surface, and write my initials on the condensed glass.

I've finished my homework and I'm loitering in the dark again. It's cold, and I've been thinking of the boy in the library again. It's funny; I don't know his name.

He's a boy from my English, that I'm sure of, but I don't know his name.

I'm not sure if he will give me back my book tomorrow. I'm not sure if he'll give it back at all. I don't know why I gave it to him. For an acute reason, I can never say _no_ to anyone. Demon, humanoid or a breed of the dark world.

The night's dusky outside, and I can hear crickets again. The leaves are getting blown away, and constantly, they hit my window. Almost pleading me to open it. Almost pleading me to lean out and jump through it again.

I've always known that my fingers have a mind of their own. I've known that they never listen to me in a time of crisis.

They're opening the window, and letting the harsh and flaming wind slap and slash my face, whipping it mercilessly.

I'm a liar. A red and black dirty liar.

And I hate myself for this. I'm not a good daughter. I'm not a good friend. I'm not good at all.

I opened this window last week. I opened this window the week before that. I've opened it so many times that I don't even remember the counts. But I've opened the window. So many times. When no one's looking. When no one realizes.

So I'm a liar.

I've lied to everyone. I've lied, and all I've done is lie to myself in process. Does that mean I'm a bad person? Does that mean that I'll never become a humanoid?

My fingers are bleeding again. And I'm wearing my black skirt one more time. But this time, I'm not knitting the wool. There's no more wool left.

Will anyone laugh? Will they even smile when I tell them how fun it is to knit my own fingers? To watch it bleed and to watch it cry as I let drops of blood plunge into the crisscross pattern of my skirt?

Will they laugh? Will they laugh with me?

It's only my blood. Brown and infected. I've always laughed. It's the only thing I get to laugh at sometimes.

Because pain is the only remedy to my tears.

- -

The next day, after Math's I find the same boy waiting outside my class. He gives me my book after saying a small _thanks_ and turning a hesitant look to the guys who're behind him. They must be his friends. Some friends. Demons. Wrath-filled demons.

On the way, some vampires stare and glare at me, but he seems blind to their distaste. Can't he see them? Can't he see those fangs that glint with crimson? Can't he see that he should stop looking like that at me?

I see he is hesitant for a while, as if wanting to ask me something, but I walk off to my next class before he can.

He would only want some other homework.

Sitting down in Science, I come to a conclusion.

He's a demon.

A quick one who doesn't dare reveal his intentions.

He reminds me of someone. Someone. Someone.

My pen jabs me relentlessly. It seems restless, but the thoughts don't run away from me. Their claws dig into me. And soon, I find myself looking at the little prick of blood appearing. It looks like the shade of cinnamon, and I look at the pen accusingly.

It only shrugs.

* * *

Buyo's sleeping on my bed again, and I watch him snore lightly. He sleeps a lot, this cat. He snores a lot for a cat. Sometimes, I find it hard to understand. How can he only be a cat? 

But yet, I let him sleep and snore. He's only a cat.

My legs are stinging and they are unnaturally highlighted from the brightness of the sun outside my locked window. The padlock glistens in the gleaming rays. The day is flaming, and I find the dark red marks on my leg very visible.

The trees have slapped me today. I was coming back home with Ayumi, when they blew against me; one of the branches cuffing my legs. Slashing and whipping.

I had tripped and fallen. And I had heard a few of the girls' laugh.

The wounds still look fresh. The blood is brown. And it looks enticing to watch. Why had the trees done that?

Buyo shifts a little. I wince as his tail's fur brush past the dried-caked blood dished on my knee. I wince a little louder as he finds a way to rest his furry head on the scrapes.

I stroke him softly.

I pull a little at his long whiskers, and hear him purr about sweet-blooded rats sleeping underneath the foundation of the shrine.

I pull my English book towards me. The same book I've done my impossible homework in. The same book I'd given to the renegade demon yesterday. That boy who's been staring at me from the corners of English class today; his murmurs silent with his friends.

I find him intriguing and yet…lethal. Could that even be possible?

* * *

Grandpa and Mom are fighting. 

I can hear them from the kitchen. I can hear their feet shuffling. I can hear their cries and helpless reprimands. It has me closing the kitchen door and keeping myself busy with the vegetables and rice who don't talk at all.

It's about dad again. Once again like always. It's always about dad. Always. Every time.

They both hate him terribly.

So terribly and loathsomely…that they can't help but love him. I'm not sure that's quite possible. To love and hate someone at the same time. To be sickened by them and at the same time cry softly for him when they think no one's listening. But I can. I can hear them so very clearly.

Mom says he hated responsibility. He hated her.

Grandpa says he had wild dreams that were improper. He said he hated him too.

Souta says he never came to those parent-teacher meetings. That he was always putting him down.

And as for me, I have nothing to say.

They have me confused. They have me torn out of feelings. What should I complain about?

Where is he? I used to ask them. And they used to answer me. Holding me close. And silently kissing my cheeks. There were never any tears that I could see. _He's gone Kagome. Your father's gone somewhere far. Forget about him okay? Everything will be fine. Everything will be just fine._

I used to ask them. And they used to answer me. Holding me close. And silently kissing my cheeks. There were never any tears that I could see. 

They used to say that. Say it like it never mattered. Like he never mattered. Like I never needed a father.

I liked it. I liked it so much back then.

The thought of him being somewhere far. Across seas and oceans. Somewhere far. Far from home.

I liked it a lot. He was gone. And he wasn't coming back.

He never mattered to me. Because I didn't want a father. I didn't need him. I didn't need him to tell me what was right and what was wrong.

But now, I'm missing him. I'm terribly missing him. So much. So badly. So terribly.

I remember when he used to push me away. I remember when he used to refuse to pick me up after school. I remember when he used to always disappear at night. And I used to wait for him. Always with milk and cookies. I used to wait for hours. Hoping.

Hoping that he'd come one day and have supper with me. Foolishly hoping.

Dad. I ask the picture of him hidden deep in my wardrobe._ Where are you?_ I ask the picture everyday. _Where?_

I ask the picture of him hidden deep in my wardrobe. I ask the picture everyday. 

Till now, it has never answered. Not once.

But I know it. It's the clearest thing I've ever known. Dad never wanted me. Not even near him. He's never wanted a daughter.

I'm sure no one wants a crazy daughter.

* * *

The next day, I'm in English. We have a new teacher who is wearing a vacant expression right now. He hasn't spoken at all, and I'm waiting to see how his voice sounds. He's a humanoid. He looks nervous. And he's wearing a tie with blue and green stripes. It contrasts starkly with his dissipating mood. 

He doesn't speak anything of our old teacher. I suppose that gives him a reason to be nervous.

Ms. Kanna Okasawa seems to have gotten run over by a green car yesterday night. And miraculously, she's hanging on her life's last string. She is a fragile teacher, who breaks down every time the teacher next door winks at her. She has never been married, and she's walking out of the age of thirty. It's almost sad, because I would have long preferred a quick death than suffering in a fallen coma.

So I hope she dies. At least, this way her spirit will heal easily.

But not everyone seems shifted by this.

The guy behind me is blabbering out loud. He talks of his date last week. He talks of how she stood him up. He talks of how he dumped her. And he talks of his dead goldfish haunting his cat too.

I shudder.

Buyo wouldn't like hearing that.

The girls in front of me talk of the recent actors and their fiancées. They talk of their boyfriends and they talk of their ex.

It's funny. Because that's all I've heard them talk about. That's always what these demons, vampires and humanoids talk about. I hear them quietly. I don't call it eavesdropping. I call it socializing-in-discreet.

I'm not bad in English. Not too bad.

No one sits next to me in class. The seat has been empty for a week. The transfer student who used to always touch my hand went back to Hong Kong.

I feel guilty to say I'm happy. I feel guilty to hope that his plane crashed somewhere along the way.

The girls in the back look at me for a second then go back to talking furiously between themselves. They're glaring, these vampires. They're always frowning at me, so I don't mind too much.

But then the chair beside me rumbles and tumbles. I can feel someone beside me; settling into the seat, and letting a bag fall on the desk.

For a moment all I can see from the corner of my eye, is something white. Who wants to sit next to me? Unless they couldn't find any other seat…

"Hey." The voice burns and unlocks my memory.

My skin jumps when I look at the familiar boy next to me. It's him.

That boy from the library.

Him.

The renegade demon who had borrowed my book.

Him.

My spine's cornered and it tingles when he smirks. What is he doing? What does he want? Why is he here? Why is he sitting next to me? My questions remain unanswered, because he doesn't say anything more.

So I watch him take out his books, smoothening my ruffled feathers and deepening my breaths.

Has someone taken his seat?

Does he want more of my homework?

I find it hard to understand him, but the new teacher picks up this time to start talking. He calls himself Mr. Hanari. A man who majored in English Literature. Takago Hanari.

The boy next to me glances my way once in a while. But I stay rigid; my body suddenly feeling stoned. I dare not talk to a demon. I dare not.

Demons don't look twice at feeble ropes like me, but he fails to observe that.

I push my chair back abruptly the moment bell rings. Mr. Hanari starts to pack up. The class turns to leave. The boy beside me doesn't move, and when I pass him, he calls out, "Wait. Kagome!"

I stop for no reason. My legs disobey me. They show their disloyalty at a meaningful time.

I'm suddenly blurred by thoughts. He knows my name…why does he know my name? A demon…why would a demon know my name?

"Kagome…" his voice is behind me, and I turn around slowly. Carefully. Timidly. He knows my name.

A few students pause to look at him then at me with raised brows. He knows my name.

How does he know my name?

Kagome. I know I'm the only girl in this class with that name. Could he have called someone else that had me mistaking it as my name?

"Uh…" he looks intently at me. Me. He looks focussed. My mind seems to have frozen. He's looking at me; "Will you be in the library today?"

His question breaks me apart. It stuns me.

"What?" the word involuntarily falls from my mouth, and I scowl at him. What does he really want?

But he doesn't look fazed at my insecurity. Instead, he shoulders on his bag. He smiles a little. "Will you?"

I don't know what to say. I don't know if I should. I suddenly don't know why my lips won't obey me. I suddenly don't know why I feel terrorized. Have they run out of energy? Have they given up on me? My lips?

"All right." He shrugs at my incompetence after a few seconds of silence cradling us; "I'll see you there then."

After another second of mute silence, he's gone.

Mr. Hanari's still stacking papers.

The vampires are still scowling.

And my desk is staring at me openly.

How can he say that? How can he answer nonchalantly that way, when my lips had gone numb?

All I can do is stare at his broad back. He has stolen my sanctuary. If he comes, then where is it that I can hide from the demons? Where?

Where, if not the library? Where, if not in the midst of the mourning pages of books?

* * *

The girls' toilets are always frangranced in my school. The aroma in here is always radiating starkly. It still circles darkly under my nose. 

The scent is unmistakable and quite profound to identify. The air radiates with dumbstruck powerful redolence of cigarettes and weed.

This is the only place the girls can smoke without being seen.

It's lunch, and I'm in a cubicle. There have been several knocks till now, but I've decided to stay still.

I've bitten every fingernail twice by now, and I've read a lesson of my History book. And yet, only thirty minutes have passed.

I've decided to allow myself to suffer in the disgust until the bell rings.

I can see my fingers fumbling and strangling each other. I can hear them plead me for a needle. They love knitting.

My fingers. They always love knitting. They love getting pricked.

There's another sharp knock on the door, and I can hear a string of curses followed behind my shield of wood. I can hear them. The vampires. I can hear their hisses and shrill cussing. I can hear them loud and clear.

But yet…they shout. They kick the wood. That's all they can do though. Because their voices disappear after minutes. They let their footsteps echo off. They let themselves disappear.

And I'm falling at ease.

The door smiles at me funnily, and I punch it.

It doesn't even squeak.

* * *

I'm picking up my books. Pen after pen. And I can still hear Ayumi and Eri complaining behind me. They haven't stopped whining. They haven't stopped talking. It's bothering me. 

"Kagome. We looked like everywhere for you! Everywhere!" Eri is leaning against my table.

"Yeah. Even in the library." Ayumi adds in, suddenly pivoting my back, "Where were you?"

I want to ask them if they saw anyone else there. That boy. I want to ask them if they saw a boy. But I don't say anything.

I just smile at them; "I was just walking around." It's a little white lie, since I did walk around my cubicle after getting a few cramped muscles.

They just huff and puff. And I'm not so sure if I want them to instigate on any longer.

Ayumi gets into a car outside school, and Eri is almost finishing her conversation with a humanoid boy. I stand waiting. I stand, my eyes away from the far trees. I stand alone. I've been waiting alone.

Alone, until I feel a presence next to me.

It's the boy with white hair. He's wearing a scowl, "Why weren't you there? In the library?" he's very close, and I think my chest almost takes a jump.

I don't need to be reminded about the talk. I don't want him to be so close.

I turn to look at Eri who still doesn't seem finished. I find the trees hollering and glaring my way. I find my path scrambled.

"I was waiting for you." He continues to surprise me. Why would he want to wait for me? There wasn't any English homework that I knew of.

I don't look at him. I don't want to look at him.

"Look. Are you even gonna look at me?" he sounds angry after reading my mind. My nerves pick up, and I start wishing him away, "Kagome?"

I shudder as he speaks my name. I shudder as he moves in closer, "Kagome?"

I break away as something brushes my shoulders. My adrenaline suddenly bursts into energy. I can imagine lovely powerful spark agitating to be strewn across the muddy sky like fireworks.

I run my legs down the school steps and ignore the trees. I'm running as fast as my wobbliness can go.

I forget about Eri. I want to forget about the boy. But even when its night and I'm under my covers, I can't forget.

I can't forget about that boy. That hybrid demon.

What is it that he wants from me?

* * *

Buyo hasn't been feeling well. 

Last night, his dinner jumped out. His pupils have dilated a little, and all he's done is lie on my bed. Souta just laughs it off. Mom says he needs to go on a diet. And Grandpa mutters, saying he's getting old. They're all so blinded by his slightly obstructed physical appearance, that they don't look at his true emotions that melt my heart. How can they just deject him without even a little stroke of affection behind his ears?

His fur's warm against my arms, and he purrs a little as he stirs. It frustrates me.

He finished crying a while ago. He finished moaning and sniffling. Poor Buyo. Momentarily, he's all out of tears.

And now, he's asleep in my arms, letting his tail swish around, as if with a life of its own. His tale, unlikely wide-awake, but thoroughly unable to speak.

The window's closed, and the curtains are drawn. The room's dark and quiet. The silence has already started to buzz in my ears. It has already started to nauseate me.

I haven't slept.

I haven't closed my eyes.

I haven't rested.

They came yesterday. Rapping on my door and howling in shrieks. They'd kept me awake all night. Those demons who never sleep. Those demons that were run out of their souls and cadavers by the high priestess who used to reign this shrine. They had spoken a lot lesser last night. They had sung out their melancholy a lot louder.

Those demons.

They'd left me crying. Panicky. Rusted. So fearful.

Mom has allowed me to stay home for today. She says I've been studying a lot, but little does she know of the lies I've fed her. It makes me feel guilty.

So guilty.

So stricken that I'm unable to step out of my room and face up to her busy figure making dinner in the kitchen.

I'm a liar. A red and black dirty liar.

A liar who deserves nothing.

Nothing.

A liar who earns to prick her fingers everyday and lets the demons of hell haunt her to death.

That's what I deserve. That's what I've always deserved.

Silly little Kagome.

She deserves nothing but death.

* * *

Today, Mr. Hanari has lost the colour in his face. His fingers quiver ever so slightly as he drops a large pile of papers onto his desk, and looks at us half-expectantly. He gazes at us like a man-disguised frog. It's the last lesson of the day. 

The hybrid demon is sitting next to me again, but I haven't heard him speak a word in my direction. As a fact, he looks to be trying his best to ignore me.

That works best by me, but it gets harder to ignore that flutter in my chest every time I steal a look of him. His demonic aura attracts my attention, and I sheath every quiet breath.

News has come that Ms. Kanna Okasawa died yesterday at the strike of midnight. She had no relatives to cry over her body. No one to bid her goodbye. No one to miss her. And now, at this very moment, she's getting buried in the nearest cemetery. Without fallen roses. Without fallen tears. Without fallen love.

I find it sickening.

So sickening.

So very sickening to know that she had no one.

No one.

And today, I'm going to visit her and cry for her.

Let a few roses fall. Let a few tears fall. And bid her goodbye.

Ayumi has agreed to come with me. She'll be bringing roses too.

When the bell rings, the boy and me are last to leave once again. When I turn to leave, he grabs my wrist. When I turn, he's looking at me.

So diffusely.

"Can…" his fingers are still holding mine, "Can I talk to you?"

I don't move. I try not to move, "You're talking to me…right now." My voice sounds enigmatic to my own ears. Abnormal. He rolls his eyes.

I can see Mr. Hanari from behind him smiling. It's wide and toothy. And he turns to leave.

The boy turns to look around the empty classroom, and then appears to be relieved.

But however as Mr. Hanari has the door closed, my chest starts to thunder and before I know it, I've pulled away from him, and almost running to catch the door open.

Unfortunately for me, the boy's fast. Very fast.

His fingers are tightened around my elbow, and I whirl to get away, my voice suddenly finding a way to co-operate.

"Let me go…or…or…I'll scream." My other hand swats at him and I find him looking amused and bewildered at the same time.

And before I can stay true to my words, he clamps a hand over my mouth, and rushes me down on a nearby chair. I fall hard against it, almost stumbling, and almost tangling my legs on the pegs.

"Dammit. Relax. I just wanna talk to you." His voice crowds against me and I find myself in a labor of breath.

"What…what do you want?" I find my voice receding in octaves. What did he want?

The demon doesn't seem to conclude anything for that second, them he seats himself down on a chair opposite me. He looks plausible. He looks lethal. He looks wonderful.

I find my insides agitating unconsciously, and I harden my grip on the arms of the chair. The wood doesn't dare voice it's speech out. Why? Why isn't it supporting my emotions?

I watch the boy wipe his forehead a little, "Why is it, that every time I try to talk to you, you find a way to run off?" he looks a little miffed. He looks awaiting my answer, and I look away in response.

Why is he asking me a question like that? It surprises me more than a little. What would there be for him to talk to me about?

There hasn't been a demon ever wanting to talk to me. Not after Kouga Morishita.

The name of that man suddenly stabs my darkness, and I'm left feeling dizzy.

"Kagome…" the way he says my name break me apart from my delusion, "Are you alright?"

I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say. I don't think I'm even breathing as I glance at the door.

His eyes are somehow digging into me, and his arms are on the table that separates us. He's so near. So close.

Kouga Morishita too had long hair. Always tied. Always making him look like a true man. A few strands falling on his ravishing green eyes. A few of them curtaining his face professionally. So intimidating.

"Kagome…"

He used to dress high. His colours contemplating his striking look. I used to be mesmerized.

"Kagome…"

There wasn't any homework for English. There wasn't any assessment. And yet, he's in front of me. Looking at me. Saying my name.

I look at him as he decides to speak another sentence, but the opening door interrupts him.

It's Ayumi. Standing in the doorway.

She looks at me. Then at the demon. She looks at me, then smiles slyly.

"Uh…I thought you'd be here." She's telling me, but she's looking at the boy, "Just wanted to say that I won't be able to come to visit the cemetery. Mom says she's having guests over and she needs my help. Sorry, I guess."

I'm lost of words, and I get up involuntarily, "That's okay."

Ayumi doesn't wait to say anything else. She turns to leave, and before I can follow her, the boy's beside me.

"I'll come with you."

I pass through the door, but he doesn't step away, "That's okay. But I—,"

"I wanna come." I give him a side-glance, and he's looking at me not smiling.

My heart jumps, and as much as I want him away from me, I don't say anything. I don't think I'm brave enough to look at him and open my mouth. I find it unnerving.

He's a step behind me as we walk out of school. I find vampires hissing and glaring my way. I find demons licking their lips. So I speed out. And the boy remains behind me.

Now, I'm standing.

Breathing lightly.

The tomb stands in front of me; it's engravings pricking my eyes. I'm in the midst of the cemetery with the hybrid demon.

Kanna Yuki Okasawa

A beloved friend and teacher.

Forever loved and remembered

May her soul rest in peace.

I find it deeply poisonous. The words written on the dark stone. They are lies. Dark lies. How could they have parted her with such lies?

She never had friends. She was never a dearest teacher. Never was she not snickered and joked by the demons residing in the class about her small figure and vacant eyes.

She was never loved. She was never remembered. And she will never be, I know that.

And as I stand, feeling the boy's gaze on my back, I know for sure. She was a form of life meant to live only for a fleeting amount of time. She was never meant to be cherished.

I know. I know now. I know it so clearly.

Kanna Okasawa will never rest in peace.

When I turn around, I wipe my eyes before I let the demon who followed me see them. He's standing still, looking at me. The sun looks to be his eyes. A crisp shade of gold, creating a glow on his face.

He's always looking at me, and I find him smiling again. A weak smile. So weak, that it makes me wonder if it's real or a façade that's fooling me.

"Let's go."

I don't move. I can't move.

He turns back to look over his shoulders, "Come on." He urges, "Let's go."

I don't proceed to obey his words. So he turns to face me.

He's a demon.

A demon with vicious thoughts and objectives. And somehow, he followed me all the way. Stood behind my back, and spoke not a word. Lifted not a finger on me. Is that possible?

He never did anything. Not one thing.

"Why are you here?" That is the only thing left to ask him. It sounds more than pathetic, "Why'd you come with me?"

The boy just shrugs as an answer. The trees behind him glare at me. "Guess I had nothing better to do."

I don't find that apprehensible; "Then you can go now." I want him away from me. I want him far away from me. I don't care if I sound very rude.

He looks up for a while. The sky has darkened a little, and so he digs his hands into his jacket; "I'm walking you home."

I stand rigid and feeling burned. "No thanks. I…I don't live far."

He seems to surprise me with every word he speaks. This demon. He surprises me.

"Don't care. I'm still walking you home."

But he can't know where I live. No matter what. I don't want to take the chances. I don't want him to discover my asylum. I don't want him to.

But he's walking off. He's not looking back. He's just walking off speaking his words, "Honestly, I don't find graves interesting as you might. So are you coming or what?"

The grave seems to rise in front of me. Looking desperate for company. Goodbye Ms. Okasawa.

The trees circle and moan in hate. Their leaves rustle and hiss hungrily.

The soil beneath my shoes struggle to swallow me whole and alive. They're dragging my soles.

And the stinging air bites me skin consciously. Slowly. Painfully.

I don't give it another thought.

I'm behind him when we pass the cemetery gates. He's beside me when we walk down the street. The sky has grown lucid, and the circled stand of trees stop to greet me in sneer. But they don't lash me. They don't curse me as I walk past them.

Is it because of the demon?

Is this his doing?

I don't speak. He doesn't either. And so I don't encourage myself.

I'm astonished to find that he's leading the way. I follow as he turns at a corner. I follow quietly. And till I stop at the front of the shrine steps, he's quiet.

I know I'm supposed to thank him. For walking me home. For coming with me to visit out late English teacher, but I can't. I will never be able to thank a demon in my entire life.

"See you tomorrow." His shadowed eyes glimmer a little, and after I turn to open the gate, he's gone.

Leaning, I find him walking into the street.

Alone.

Shoulders hunched.

His white tresses glowing in the visible sunlight.

He's a demon. I know he is. He emits a demon's aura. And yet…I'm confused. Why hadn't he tried anything?

He knows of my sanctuary.

He knows my name.

He knows where I live.

And soon he'll see my insanity. It's not very invisible when all has leaked. Not at all cryptic. Especially not to demons.

* * *

Grandpa has been feeling sick. Very sick. So very sick. 

He believes a disease has been flown to him from the dead. And now, he's turned to the very last door of paranoia. He's waiting for the white sheets to be pulled over him in his hospital bed.

Mom is worried, and Souta says he doesn't care.

It's a little true I guess. Grandpa has been hit by abnormal plagues ever since he'd come to a conclusion that demons haunted our shrine.

He tells us that they want revenge, and that one by one the family of the priestess will be abolished. That is just what Grandpa has predicted. He's always coming up with dates of his departure.

Buyo has drifted off under the foundation of the shrine. Souta presumes that he was most probably a pest controller in his past reincarnation.

I'm alone in bed after skipping desert. I've never liked stuffed strawberry puddings. They're too sweet, and they're Souta's favourite.

Ayumi called a while ago, and her suspicions were taking their toll on me. She suspects something between me and the boy she'd seen me with.

The demon.

She was a little confused when she'd caught me without his name.

It made me think more of why he was always around me. Was it the same reason as it was for Kouga Morishita?

I find the mere thought of it repulsive. So loathsome.

He had been nothing of that sort. We'd been alone in the library and he hadn't tried anything. Alone in the cemetery, he'd hardly spoken a word. And he'd walked me home. It'd been a little frightening to know that he knew where I lived. But there were many more that knew that. They knew of the rumors Grandpa had spreading around too. About the hungry demons. They all find it funny.

I shift noisily under the cover, and I can make out the distinct image of the waning moon glowing behind my curtain.

The table has finally gone to sleep, and I find myself shifting into slumber as my bed sings softly to me. I'm thinking of the demon again.

I'm thinking of why he wants to be near me.

* * *

I find Buyo missing in the morning. His litterbin is empty, and the milk in his dish is looking untouched. Mom says I can look for him after I come from school. But she wouldn't understand. She wouldn't understand the remorse if I were to loose him forever. 

In school, Eri drags me away in Science. Her voice is whispered and hissed as she corners me with the help of Ayumi.

"Ok. Kagome. Spill. Who's your boyfriend? You know you'll never be able to hide him from us."

I should be looking surprised, but after that talk with Ayumi last night, I'm not so sure if I can even feign the expression.

"He's not my boyfriend." I answer easily as I sit down on my chair; "I don't even know him."

Eri suppresses an undignified snort with a roll of her eyes, "I _saw _you yesterday with him. Mom was giving me a ride to the pool, and even _she_ saw you."

I look up at her fiery eyes; "He just followed me there."

"Liar." Ayumi slaps her hands onto my desk, "What about yesterday huh? You guys were like alone in class."

"Really?" Eri smirks slyly, "Wow Kagome. You scored yourself a good one. He's a hottie. I never knew you had in you."

I'm not sure why, but I'm glaring furiously under their wiggling gazes. I'm a little hurt that they can think like that of me. I'm a little hurt that they find a way to assort me like that. Like the vampires that tramp around to find boys to help them spend their trust fund.

"No." I blurt out grimly, "He…" I look at their expecting faces, "He's a demon."

For a moment none of us speak, and there are only the rustling of the guys behind us.

"Kagome…" it's Ayumi and her face has softened, "Tell me you're not gonna start on that again." My blank face makes her express more of her words, "You know…that everyone's some sort of a demon or vampire that live of blood donated by humanoids."

I stare at her. I think she's stretched the truth a bit too far.

"Yeah Kagome." Eri sits on the chair beside mine, "You should give all that a rest. This guy obviously seems interested in you. You should give him a chance, before you go crazy again." She laughs a little.

No.

"You guys actually look quite cute together."

No.

"Has he asked you out?"

No. No. No.

How can they say this?

"And you better introduce us to him alright?"

How can they say all this?

How can they? They're…they're supposed to be my friends. They're supposed to be humanoids.

My ears soon fall numb, and I can't hear them anymore. They are still talking to me, but I can't hear them. I won't hear them. I won't.

They've known for a long time. They've known from the very starting.

That I'm insane.

That I don't belong.

Then why do they do this to me?

They know my story. They know of my long story.

And so sometimes it makes me wonder. It makes me think hard, and draw invisible clouds in the blue sky. Are all humanoids heartless?

* * *

The girl Sango in my Math's class has been talking a lot to me. 

She's still sitting next to me, and she's still talking about the brother who she locked in his room. She says she wants a sister. She says she hates brothers because they're always like the pricks that you get when sitting down on your couch strew with forks.

I find the analogy disheartening with Souta.

I nod silently hoping to look like a good listener. I couldn't care less really. I couldn't care less. I didn't even know her. I don't think I'd want to know her.

She talks of her boyfriend. She talks so silently of him.

"He brought me roses yesterday." She whispers close to my ears, "He knows I don't like all those girly stuff, but it was pretty sweet of him."

Miroku is her boyfriend. Miroku Matsura. She tells me that they've been inseparable for three months. She tells me he loves kissing her. She tells me he loves her. She tells me so many things. So many cursed truths that I find them to be a fathomless touch of miserable couple.

What she doesn't know is that he's not much of a lover once her back is turned. And what he doesn't know is that she's got an anger-managing problem that one day will definitely cost him a cut his throat.

I can imagine the blood falling as Sango keeps on talking.

I can imagine the blood sprayed across her face. I can imagine Miroku on his knees; his eyes on her only for a cursory moment before letting them close involuntarily.

I can imagine her tears falling. I can imagine. I can imagine so many things.

But the blood runs off when Ms. Kaede starts speaking again. She's profusely explaining an equation to destroy the ambiguous vines around a trigonometry question. I don't understand any of it, yet she keeps to her own words by slapping the board repeatedly with her ruler.

The ruler glances at me sadly.

It's crying. I can see the tears. I can see the dread hidden in its hard scales.

But no one notices. No one. No one speaks a word.

Her old eyes passes by me and picks flatly on Sango.

One day. I tell myself quietly and let my eyes fall to bed.

One day I'm going to ask her why she never picks on me. I'm going to ask her why she never bothers to explain when I sit in her class with a blank face. I'm going to ask her one day.

One day I'll ask her if she ever notices my insanity.

* * *

Buyo's in my room. Silently using my bed as his scratch post. 

Mom has never liked it. She says it's a bad habit for a family cat like him. She says so many things. So many things that I can never understand. She speaks strings of illusion that I can't seem to unravel.

Buyo says humanoids love speaking in confusion and dreadlocks. He's right I guess. He's right about the humanoids. He's always been right about the demons as well.

I tell him of the boy. I tell him how he always wants to talk to me.

But Buyo only purrs against my legs and shrugs. I guess he's as doubtful as I am on that, but he advises me to not get myself attracted if I want to stay on the safe side of the party.

He advises me to act like everything's normal and keep strong.

I think that is a pretty good idea, because I've noticed that ever since I've met him I've had the will of wanting to run away.

It's so very funny, that humor has run dry.

What would a demon like him want from me?

No one has approached me since a long time ago. I continue to stroke Buyo's thick fur and he continues to purr in bliss. No one has approached me ever since they found out what happened.

I hesitate a little before bringing my hands close.

Yes.

I can still remember the blood on them. I can still remember every little pattern they traced through in-between my fingers.

The hand I'd wiped my mouth with after Kouga Morishita had kissed me.

I shudder involuntarily and let myself grab Buyo and hug him fiercely. I only let him go after making sure he's dizzy, and then I laugh at him.

Poor cat.

He doesn't deserve to be a cat. He deserves to be a humanoid. Just like I want to.

But I'm on my knees. I'm desperate for recognition in this vastness. I want to be called. I want to be known. I'm so very desperate to have this desire of being a humanoid come true.

And for a reason, everything keeps failing me.

* * *

The demons had tried to sneak in yesterday night again. It was for the longest of time, and never had I thought they would ever leave. 

They'd left me awake and sweating until I could see the first ray of the sun forcing in through the partings of my curtains. I think I laid there pretending to look asleep for them, but they don't know.

They don't know that I wait for them every night.

They don't know, that until they come and go, this sleep never comes easy. Never so easy. Never once.

Grandpa is asleep in bed, and Mom seems to think he's been sleeping an awful lot these days. Souta thinks he's just making an excuse on not sweeping the shrine steps. The hospital has discharged him saying its only weakness, and that he needs to stop working so much.

So it's what I have to do. Sweep.

Buyo doesn't follow me out, and I slip out alone with a wiry broom and already in my uniform.

The trees are rustling, and they're swearing into the wind in their loudest voice. I can hear them so clearly that it makes me shake. They're glaring and it makes me want to run back in and hide underneath my covers.

They're poisoning the air with hatred. Sweet innocent hatred that wavers around me in full blossom.

Then I see the figures underneath the trees.

It's Ayumi waving to me. She seems to be awfully early today, but a boy's beside her too. It's the boy.

The demon.

My hands are clenching around the broom, and it cries out its pleas. Its tears start to fall, but I don't see them.

Why is he here?

Why is that demon here?

I think I panic. I think I look frustrated. I hope I look angry. But Ayumi comes bounding up the steps, still waving and still with that unusual smile on her face.

The demon stays behind, looking at me with his silvery hair blowing in the wind.

"Kagome." Ayumi reaches to me huffing and puffing, but I'm not looking at her. I'm looking at him. And he's looking at me.

What is he doing here?

The broom wounded around my fingers continues to cry and plead, but I'm not listening.

"Kagome." Ayumi looks happy, "Guess who I met on the way?"

I don't answer to her eloquent question, so she just grabs my arm, "Come on. Leave the broom and let's go."

I look at her hesitantly, forcing myself to drag my eyes away from him, "But it's only eight."

She rolls her eyes effectively and looks like I just missed the pot of gold from my fingertips, "Why are you sweeping anyway? Is your Gramps still sleeping?"

I nod at her, and brush the straws of the broom against the cement. I let loose of my grasp, and the wooden stick sighs in content.

"What is he doing here?" I ask her continuing to sweep and not looking at the demon under the trees.

She seats herself down on one of the steps, and grins at me, the sun highlighting her face, "He was at the corner, so I guessed he was coming here."

"Here?" I look up at her, starting onto the third step.

"Off course. There won't be a reason for coming this way when school's in the opposite direction Kag. Quit faking it. You were gonna ditch me and go off with him today right?" She doesn't look insulted, but happy.

I shudder at her look and shake my head furiously, "No. Off course not. I don't even know why he's here."

"Right." She ends the conversation with a sly look, while I continue to sweep off the dry leaves step after step.

On the last one, I look at him. He hasn't moved. He hasn't stopped staring at me.

His white shirt blows in and out, and he looks incredible. He looks pleasant. I scream at myself and look away as the trees start to laugh cruelly.

I'm walking down with Ayumi down the steps after a few minutes, and the demon joins us, leaving Ayumi in between us.

He's quiet. He doesn't speak a word.

We walk down the street, leaving only the voice of Ayumi heard against the many cars and shrill rings of bicycles. I'm afraid. I don't speak. The branches of emerald leaves overhanging above us leave us in lighted shadows, and the wind rips against my skin.

Ayumi keeps talking.

But then she stops.

I look at her, but her blabbering continues. She says she was supposed to be meeting up with Koshiro Yasui at the parlor. And she runs off in the left turn, leaving us in her sudden wake, before anything could be said.

I'm trembling.

My blood is restless, and my nerves start to thin.

She has left me alone with him. She has left me alone with this demon.

I look at him, and he has a small smirk. I think I can see a gleaming fang. I don't think he sees my fear. I don't think he sees it at all.

"Who's Koshiro?" he's asking me, and I'm still impeded.

"Her boyfriend." I answer after a while.

He nods, then walks while my feet stays rooted. It takes him a moment to realize he's walking alone, but he turns and the sun seems to be in his eyes. He holds a hand up to shield them, "What?"

I swallow at his features. I swallow at his voice.

I shake my head slightly, and walk towards him, each step of a cautious mouse to his cheese.

We walk through streets for a while, before he's talking again.

"You know, I don' care."

I glance at him skeptically, "About?" What does he mean?

He looks hesitant, and then he stops walking altogether. I turn to watch him look uneasy, "About what people say about you."

His voice is tight, and I know what he's saying, "What do they say?" I play along not wanting to make it easy for him.

He looks at me frustrated suddenly, his eyes glaring far off. He looks dangerous for a while, "That you're crazy. Don't tell me you don't know it."

I look at his bluntness, and I almost let myself smile, "But I am crazy." So he knows too.

"Shut up." His voice is sharp and I can make out his beat, "You're not crazy. Crazy people don't admit they're crazy."

I can't stop to look away from him this time. Why is he saying this? Why is he sounding so sincere? So outspoken?

I can remember Buyo's words in my head to remain strong. But here I am.

Feeble. Isolated. And defenseless to this demon who's making me weak.

He doesn't say anything after that and we continue, but he looks like there's more he wants to. I'm slow at my pace, and I'm thinking about his words.

He doesn't think I'm crazy. Why? Why, I want to ask him, but I feel restrained.

There's silence once again as we take the street of the school, "Do you even know my name?" he speaks again, his voice careless, but he doesn't look at me. "Inuyasha." He answers to my silence.

When we reach the gates, I turn away from him before he has a chance to speak.

I need to think.

I need some time to think about what he just said. About Inuyasha.

He doesn't think I'm crazy.

There's never been someone who's ever said that to me.

* * *

Sango is quiet today next to me in Math's. I don't ask her for a reason. Then as the bell rings, she calls my name. 

"Kagome."

When I look at her, I ask myself for a reason. Her eyes are red, and her lips are thinned in sorrow. "I hate Miroku." She sniffs a little then and stops at the ground; "I really hate him."

Her words are of regret and anger, and I know why. She leaves, and at her back I smile.

So she finally knows of what he's been up to.

I ask Ayumi of her behavior today. I know why, but I need the answer from her. Of the reason she left me alone with the demon.

She just shrugs, and says it's a help from a friend.

Friend.

She's been saying that word an awful lot these days.

In English, Inuyasha sits next to me again. He looks at me, but we don't talk. Mr. Hanari looks pale as always.

At the end of school I see him waiting for me. Ayumi is nowhere to be seen, but I know of her game. Her silly game that she knows I hate.

The demon and me walk together with a large distance in-between us, and there's nothing I have left to say. There's nothing I feel I want to say. I let him walk beside me. Why? Because I couldn't care less. I knew he would still insist if I would ask him to leave. I had a hate I couldn't mouth out.

Am I letting this boy weaken myself? Like I did for Kouga?

I sneak a glance at the boy for any resemblance, and for a reason I can't seem to find any. It was a first. Even his hair seemed different.

He doesn't say a word either, and I find it eerily comforting. The trees gather up to greet me in disdain, but their voices are hushed. I don't know why, but I like the effect.

When we reach the shrine, he looks at me with a small smile, and starts to walk off when he suddenly turns; "Can I talk to you later?" he sounds serious.

I don't know what to say.

But he doesn't wait for an answer; "I'll wait here at eight."

No.

He doesn't wait for an answer, because he's walking off.

I'm left staring at his back, before I rush up to my room. I gather Buyo in my arms, and let myself cry. I don't know why. These days, I seem to know not one thing. These days, ever since I met Inuyasha, I can't seem to think of anything but him.

Is it going to repeat?

Will the clock around Kouga Morishita be turning back?

No. I let myself sleep. No. I won't let that happen. Never will I let such a thing repeat its course. I'll give my breath away before I have chance to get trapped in his net.

Kouga Morishita had a hunger of a wolf, but Inuyasha? What hunger does he have for? What does he want? I have still to find out, and tonight I am going to ask him.

I'm going to ask him why he's been following me around and does nothing but stay silent.

* * *

He is sitting on the steps when I see him first in the night. His hair is tied back, looking regal in his clothes. 

I just stand behind him, and let him turn around and greet me. I don't know why I'm here. I was going to leave him stranded here like when he'd asked to meet in the library.

"You haven't changed?"

I look down at my clothes at his words, and find myself shrugging. It was true, I had forgotten about my uniform. I have slept for hours in them.

There is silence in the breeze, until Inuyasha breaks it as a habit I've noticed, "Why don't you ever talk to me?" The question rings horrendously, and I feel maimed like one of Ms. Kaede's parrots.

I close me eyes shut, and let him talk. I don't know why. I don't know why I'm doing this. I don't know why I'm getting acquainted with a demon. And at a time like this too. Maybe it's because of what he'd said in the morning. That he didn't think I was crazy.

No demon would think something like that. Hybrid or not. I know that for sure, but yet, I was going to let him see through my veil.

"Kagome." He stops his talk and looks frustrated again, "Are you listening to me?"

I nod slowly, and he mutters something under his breath. Now I know what he wants to talk about.

"Sit down." It's almost commanding as he pats the cement next to him. It takes another command to make me sit four feet away from him.

He scowls before talking again, "Are you scared of me?"

I don't speak, so he starts to tap his feet in uneasy, "Are you?"

I'm trembling, I know I am. And I know he can see it now. I also know I shouldn't be here. His question is answered.

"Why?" his voice is soft and delicate.

I want to scream at him. I want to make him bleed like I've let myself. But I sit tight in my spot thinking over his words, "Why?" I'm asking myself, debating whether to tell him or not.

"Kagome." He pauses, "Why are you scared of me?"

After another curtain of deep tranquility shifts, I glance at him sideways and find that he's moved closer, "Because you're a demon."

The wind seems to vibrate at my words, and he looks less than shaken.

I look away, and my feet get up instantly. The blood in me is rushing around like a torpedo. I knew I shouldn't have come. I knew I shouldn't have. I knew I should have kept my question alone.

I start to turn. I start to make a run.

But he grabs my elbow painfully, "Wait. What do you mean? Why a demon?"

I struggle to get away, before whirling around at him, my hair in my face, "I don't know!"

Inuyasha doesn't let go, and I continue to try to get loosened. My chest is pounding and I feel close to tears.

"Let me go."

He's awfully close, and when he pulls me closer, I think I'm going to die, "You don't know? You call me a demon and you don't know why? That's crazy!"

"Exactly!" I'm crying with tears stringing my eyes, "I am crazy!"

There's not a voice for seconds before I get the courage to open my eyes and start to violently shake him off.

His eyes are nearer to mine, and my heart starts to burn with fear. My strength seems to have dissolved, and I can see every contour of his face from this distance. I've fallen weak, and I don't realize when he lets me go. I know I'm supposed to push him away and run to shelter, but my mind has fallen out of reign, and now there's no one to run my muscles.

I curse them. I curse them vehemently. Why won't they listen to their master? Why won't they ever listen to and obey me when I need them the most?

"You're not crazy." His lips are close, "I don't like crazy people." The breath from the parting of his mouth hit mine, and I watch his fingers enter my shield.

I snap my eyes shut and I turn my face in absolute alarm.

"Please." My voice croaks, "Just leave me alone." Why won't he just leave me alone? What was it that I had done to him?

"Your friends told me you're always in the library. I met you once in there, but you never came there again after that." He's speaking.

I know. I always hid myself in the toilets ever since then. I always hid myself deeply. And it was all because of him. I don't speak out though.

"You stay in late after your Math's class ever since I came to give you your book. You know my class's next to yours, so you always stay in."

Yes. Yes, I do. All because of him.

"Every time I try to talk to you, you run away. Like I'm going to do something. You called me a demon, but I don't care." His voice sounds so desperate, "I don't care why you think I'm a demon. I don't care."

My knees are shaking. They're shaking and rumbling. Fear hasn't dissipated, and I find myself giving in to it even more.

"Just go." My voice is hoarse and close to breaking, "Get away from me. Please."

My warning is too late, because I can feel a cold touch on my cheek. They're his fingers. They brush down my jaw, and then disappear.

When I open my eyes, he's far. His back is turned to me.

"Fine." I can't see his face in the darkness; "I'll leave you alone." And then he's gone. His figure disappearing into the darkness and his last words still lingering, in the small of the light.

I fall down to the steps. My eyes start to cry. Why? Why had he just done that? Said those words? Why would he like me? Why would a demon like me? Why?

I cry alone on those steps. My breathing doesn't come easy and I feel close to a strangle.

He hadn't done anything.

He hadn't done anything like Kouga had. Kouga hadn't said those words. He had never spoken words such as those.

He isn't like Inuyasha, I know now. He has never been like Inuyasha.

* * *

The window greets me as I open it. The height seems steeper than it was the last time I was here. This isn't my room. It's the rooftop. I haven't been here for a long time. I'm not allowed to be here. But it's past midnight, and I'm looking at the sky. 

The crickets are weeping.

I can't feel any magic like many humanoids might. I can't as hard as I try. Everybody's asleep. Even Buyo. I haven't given the demons any time left. Today. I will not be waiting for them. Not today. Never from now.

In those few minutes after dinner, I have come to think of so many things. So many things and their values to me.

The air around me spins and the stinging on my bare arm doesn't stop. The sky seems far even from here. I look up to see no clouds, but just a clear blind sky. So blind, but I know something.

It can see me.

So clearly. It can see me.

The trees are hurling leaves against each other. I laugh at them. I know something else. They're weaker than I am. They're so much more weaker.

In the smooth vivid balance of wind, I close toward the edge and stand with my toes flapped against the hardness of the thick wood. The height is deep. Deeper than I ever though it would be.

But I can't stop thinking. I can't stop thinking about so many things.

There has always been something about Inuyasha. Ever since the moment in the library. He was mysterious to me. An enigmatic demon who confessed so easily to me. And yet, he hadn't done anything like Kouga had.

He hadn't called me crazy. He hadn't called me what other people do. What my own family does behind my back. I don't know why he has been so interested in me. There is not a reason of any interest that would flutter towards a person about me, but what did he see that other people haven't?

What was it?

I know it's something I'll never find out.

I know now, that I'll never be able to ask Ms. Kaede why she hates me. I'll never be there to take over the shrine. Sango will never know why I hate her. Inuyasha will not hear of me again and I won't be able to see Dad when he returns.

I'm holding his picture, and I kiss it.

I've been a bad girl. I've caused so much trouble to my family. But I know nothing will ever change. I know now that this is something I have been meant to do. I know it's what I want to do.

I clutch the picture in my fist, and I close my eyes, "Thank you Inuyasha." I know now. I owe it all to him. He was the one who made me understand the few things. I owe him my gratitude.

The world around frowns at me for one last time before I let myself slip and greet the rushing ground I'd met four summers back. I feel numb for a long time. I feel lifeless. But there are these stupid tears again. And they won't leave.

Just like this pain in my heart.

The pain won't leave. And I let myself give in to everything. It's all there's left to do.

* * *

That night in the rustle and chill of the dark grass I dreamed. I've never dreamed for a long time. But this was a true dream, and there were so many people in it. So many people that I knew at once that it had to be a chasm between my reality. 

A cut so deep and sharp that the wound had gone numb.

I prayed to god that no one would find me. I prayed to god that he would just leave me alone for this once.

Because I was finally home.

I just knew it.

There was Ms. Kaede patting me on the shoulder for getting an equation right. She was finally seeing me behind the heavy mist.

I was Sango's friend and I was with Eri eating ice cream like always at Myoga's.

Ms. Kanna Okasawa was alive and married to the teacher next door. She had a baby cradled in her arms, and she looked so happy. I've never seen her that happy.

There was Dad too. We had supper together, and stayed up all night eating cookies and talking about books. He said that he loved me and there could never be a better daughter God could ever give him. We had cried together.

Dad had been there with me for the longest of time.

And so had Inuyasha.

It seemed as if there was no way I could stop thinking about him. When I'd see blood on my fingers, I would think of him. When I would hear the trees rummaging, I would see him smiling and standing so close to me. So close that I could feel his breath on my face.

But there were no demons. He was no demon. There were only humans. He was a human. I was a human. I wasn't insane. I couldn't hear talks of objects. Buyo was only a cat. I was a normal girl with a normal family and normal life.

It was something I could never have imagined.

Maybe it's something I've always wanted, and something I could only find in this never-ending dream. Someone who would love me. Someone who would love me for real and would want me even with an insanity that surpassed oceans and eternity.

And if I could have it here, then I never want to wake up. Never.

I want to stay asleep in this fallacious fantasy forever. It's something I want so terribly, and for the first time in my life, I know I'm going to get what I want.

I'm laughing right now. As a forfeiter, I'm having the last laugh.

* * *

Insanity wasn't my disease.

It was something that I was meant to lean on.

Loosing to it was never an option.

Loosing to myself was.

That is why, I was the looser of my own game.

It was something that turned me away.

Caged me in a world that I never wanted.

I was playing a game of hiding in my own shadow.

It was a game I played alone.

I was the seeker of my own death.

Thriller

I was lonely, I know now

I wanted someone to help me up

I wanted him

A demon to set me free

I've found him, I know now

I've found him at last

He awoke me from my thriller

A demon


End file.
